The Lances of Lynwood eBook

“I was not so badly wounded but that I could
soon rise to my feet —­but where should
I go? I turned towards the Castle, but the Bearnese
had been there before me, and I saw flames bursting
from every window. I was weak and wounded, and
sank down, bleeding and bewailing, till my senses
left me; and I should have died, but for two Benedictines
journeying for the service of their Convent.
The good brethren were in fear for their bags in going
through the Black Wolf’s country, but they had
pity on me; they brought me to myself, and when they
had heard my tale, they turned aside to give Christian
burial to my father and brothers. They were holy
men, those monks, and, for their sakes, I have spared
the cowl ever since. They tended me nearly as
well as you have done, and brought me to their Convent,
where they would fain have made a monk of me, but
the wolf was too strong in me, and, ere a month was
passed, I had been so refractory a pupil, that they
were right glad to open the Convent gates. I
walked forth to seek my fortune, without a denier,
with nothing but the sword I had taken from my father’s
hand, and borne with me, much against the good men’s
will. I meant to seek service with any one who
would avenge me on the Count de Bearn. One night
I slept on the hill-side, one day I fasted, the next
I fell in with Sir Perduccas d’Albret’s
troop. I had seen him in my father’s company.
He heard my tale, saw me a strong, spirited lad, and
knew a d’Aubricour would be no discredit to
his free lances. So he took me as his page,
and thence—­but the tale would be long—­I
became what you see me.”

“And you have never seen your own Castle again?”

“But once. D’Albret laughed when
I called on him to revenge me on the Count de Bearn,
and bade me bide my time till I met him in battle.
As to my heritage, there was no hope for that.
Once, when I had just broken with Sir Nele Loring,
and left his troop, and times were hard with me, I
took my horse and rode to Albricorte, but there was
nought but the bare mountain, and the walls black
with fire. There was, indeed, a wretched shepherd
and his wife, who trembled and looked dismayed when
they found that one of the Albricortes still lived;
but I could get nothing from them, unless I had taken
a sheep before me on the saddle; so I rode off again
to seek some fresh service, and, by good hap, lit on
Sir Reginald just as old Harwood was dead. All
I have from my father is my name, my shield, and an
arm that I trust has disgraced neither.”

“No, indeed. Yours is a strange history,
Gaston; such as we dream not of in our peaceful land.
Homeless, friendless, I know not how you can be thus
gay spirited?”

“A light heart finds its way through the world
the easiest,” said Gaston, smiling. “I
have nothing to lose, and no sorrows to waste time
on. But are you not going forth this cool evening,
Sir Eustace? you spoke of seeking fresh tidings of
the Prince.”